The Weight of Sin
by Quoting-Ravens
Summary: It was deafening. The crowd gathered around the podium both awed and appalled her, lost to their bloodlust, they continued to scream, drowning the stadium in their frenzied cheers. There were hundreds of people all crammed together into that small stadium, all for one purpose, to watch a young boy die.


It was deafening.

The crowd gathered around the podium both awed and appalled her, lost to their bloodlust, they continued to scream, drowning the stadium in their frenzied cheers. There were hundreds of people all crammed together into that small stadium, all for one purpose, to watch a young boy die.

No one seemed to notice her as she shifted through the crowds, towards the raised podium at its center. The people gathered neither turned their heads nor ceased their abundant cheers as she ghosted past them, instead watching as the now headless body of a teenage-boy was dragged off the stage. She could hear their damning words as she past, her red eyes flashing as bits and pieces rolled off their poisoned tongues. A demon…Satan's son…abomination…each word was like a glancing blow against her back, but she kept moving forward. Deep inside she hopped that their voices could drown out the last damning words that bounced around her mind…off with his head.

She hadn't expected this when she finally reached the blood soaked podium, the little boy crotched behind the executor's block. With tousled black hair and electric blue eyes, the tyke couldn't have been more than five staring up at her with a haunted and lifeless expression. He was hesitant in approaching her at first, taking one step forward only to quickly stumble back and hide behind the block once again, completely disregarding the blood soaked basket at his feet that contained the disembodied head of tousled black hair. Not knowing what else to do she sat down on the blood caked floor, and waited, much like one would do with a startled kitten, and in time the boy did come and made himself comfortable, he perched himself at her feet staring up at her. Electric blue met carmine red as they stared at one another, neither speaking nor making any indication of moving.

With his back to the crowd and podium, the boy was unaware of the men now pulling the head from the basket at the foot of the executor's block, she watched as a set of half-lidded, eclectic blue eyes disappeared within a brown burlap bag.

She grunted in disgust.

Burlap, a cheap and worthless material that could be easily replaced, had that boy really meant nothing?

She turned her eyes back to the child in front of her, staring at her with the same half-lidded eyes, it was haunting, in a way she could never explain, watching as the execution walked off with the burlap sack, most likely to display the head where the roaring mob could see. "So tell me…what are you waiting for?" her question surprised the little boy, he jumped at the sound of her voice. He stared at her for a moment unsure of what he should say before a large innocent and trusting smile lit up his face. How in the hell had this boy been labeled a monster?

'For someone to come and pick me up.' His answer made her smile as she gently pulled down the hood of her white pullover, allowing a stream of dark red hair to spill over her shoulder. She couldn't help but chuckle as the child stared transfixed at her hair, she gently ran her fingers through it before asking her next question, this child was an interesting one.

"Oh really and take you where?"

'To hell.' His answer was like a punch in the gut, his honesty physically painful, his somber expression soul crushing. This reply had truly shocked her, and the stunned look of horror must have shown on her face as the boy suddenly became unsure, gently tugging at his black locks in distress.

What kind of child believed that they were so evil, that they belonged in hell?

"Why?" It was all she could muster to choke out, fingers suddenly caught in carmine hair.

'Because I am the son of Satan…' it was mumbled so low, that if she hadn't leaned in closer, she would never have heard him. The damning words from the crowd once again filled her ears as she stared down at the child before her, the realization washed over her like a tidal wave, the pain that that boy had to endure, maybe he really was better off dead.

"I'm a…"

'Don't you dare finish that statement!' the boy cowered at her harsh tone and yelped as strong arms suddenly wrapped themselves around him burring his face into a soft chest. The boy hesitantly returned the hug, melting into the warmth of what he thought was downy feathers between his fingers, never in his life had the child felt so warm.

She gave a fierce growl as she clutched the young boy to her chest staring at his back in frustration. He couldn't see them, the small downy wings that adored his back, and he didn't know that the blue flames reflected in his eyes was not just the flames of Satan but also the remnants from god's holy burning bush, and now he never would.

'Your not a demon!' her words where spoken with such convection that they took the boy by surprise, but he knew they weren't true he had been called a monster his entire life, he was evil, abandoned, destined for hell, that was the only thing left he knew for sure. He half-heartily pushed up against her, he needed to move away from her so he could head towards Gahanna, but at the same time he was scared to leave the warmth of her embrace.

"I'm a mon…" she cut him off again with a swift shake of her head and by tightening her embrace.

'You're Rin, and that's all you need to remember.' And with that she quickly enclosed her hands around the young boys head and spoke a few words, holy words, the likes of which had never been heard by mortal ear. A light suddenly encompassed the child as his eyes slowly closed in sleep; he collapsed against her his head lolling on her shoulder in a deep slumber. He wouldn't remember any of this, not a second of his painful existence on earth, say for his name, the name that he will maintain through the ages. With a tired sigh she picked up the child and stood, the caked blood falling off her white denim jeans in flakes without leaving a single stain.

"What are you doing here Azriel." She froze, but only for a moment, to pull the hood back over her carmine hair and matching eyes, once again obscuring her face from view. Clutching the sleeping child closer to her chest she spun around to stare at the face slowly appearing in gapping cataclysm that just opened in the floor.

'I could ask you the same thing Heylel.' The same tousled midnight hair and electric blue eyes stared up at her from Gahanna's pit only instead of trusting innocents a hardened sneer met her tired eyes. Heylel, Lucifer, Satan, whatever, he maybe called the Lord of Demons was too powerful to crossover into the world of man; she had no reason to fear him.

"Hand over my son, you have no business here." Her arms tightened around the sleeping child, her eyes hardening as she stared down the King of Hell.

'He has no business in hell and you know that!' In her anger she tore the shirt from the boy's back revealing the twin downy wings nestled between his shoulder blades. Satan merely grunted.

"So? Wings have no bearing over a soul Azriel." After all, he also had a pair, although now blackened and scorched from his time in hell, the downy feathers of his own wings were the only reminder of Satan's time in heaven.

"He is a demon first and foremost, that was why he had to die."

'Human's are stupid beings that destroy what they can't understand. And this child,' Her angry shouting slowly dissolved as the child stirred in her arms. She smiled down at the sleeping child; her voiced becoming a low, soothing sound as she tried to loll him back to sleep.

'Was destroyed because they could never understand just how closely linked our worlds are. Angels and Demons, we are both essentially the same thing, it is a conscience choice we must make whether to stumble into the light or fall into the darkness. You should know that better than anyone Heylel.' The Lord of Demon's growled, a low guttural sound that came from deep within his chest, as he watched the wench spin away, still clutching onto the body of his sleeping son. Two large ivory wings suddenly exploded from her back as she took flight into the sky, and with slow measured strokes made her way up towards the light peaking through the greying clouds.

"He will never be accepted up there, do you think he'll thank you for that Azriel! He'll come to hate you; he'll come to hate all of you! Then one day he will lead a second great war against the arrogance of all you angels and your god, mark my words Azriel!" She didn't even bother to glance back with her answer, gently cradling her sleeping ward; she only looked forward towards the looming golden gates of St. Peter before them.

'Then when that day comes, I alone will bear the weight of that sin.'


End file.
